


Drunken Visitor

by thewarlocksbitch



Category: Mortal Instruments Series - Cassandra Clare, TMI - Fandom
Genre: M/M, Malec
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-20
Updated: 2015-05-20
Packaged: 2018-03-31 12:20:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,039
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3977779
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thewarlocksbitch/pseuds/thewarlocksbitch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>all characters belong to CC</p>
    </blockquote>





	Drunken Visitor

**Author's Note:**

> all characters belong to CC

Magnus groaned and rolled over in his bed, blinking his eyes open as his doorbell sounded repeatedly. 

He lay there for a few minutes, listening to the bell and staring at his clock. _2 am._ The demented soul bothering him this early better have a good reason. They’d better have a _great_ reason. 

He rolled off his bed, his bare feet hitting the hardwood floor with a shock of cold. 

He stalked towards the door, wincing as an insistent pounding came from the other side of his front door - this asshole had somehow got up to the door himself - as if it were a fist banging on his head. 

He threw to door open, his already short hold of patience fraying. “WHO _DARES_ DISTURB THE HIG-” 

Magnus cut himself off, seeing the boy standing on the other side of the door. The boy was a Shadowhunter, most likely of the New York institute.  
His black hair, fair skin, and deep blue eyes triggered a fond memory inside Magnus. 

The boy was leaning against the wall of the hallway, squinting at Magnus as if he were looking directly at the sun. 

He wore a terrible gray sweater and ratty black jeans, his gear belt hanging limply on his hips. The black boots shadowhunters always wore were absent; he stood shoeless, wearing one black sock and one green one. 

His whole face was flushed a dark red, and he stank of alcohol.  
Magnus sighed, his heart softening despite his annoyance. 

The boy scowled, and it would’ve looked more undermining if his eyes weren’t so glazed over and he wasn’t gripping the wall like it was the only thing holding him up. “Who are you?” 

He asked, voice slurred. He peered into Magnus’s apartment, eyes slipping across everything like water over glass, taking nothing in. 

“Magnus Bane,” Magnus said slowly, crossing his arms over his chest. “High Warlock of Brooklyn. I live here.” The boy shook his head, the action making him look like he would fall over. 

“Warlocks don’t live in Institutes.“ He said. "Isabelle?” He called loudly, his voice annoyingly slurred. “ _Jace?_ ” 

Magnus ran a hand through his sleep-tousled hair and tugged at the strands, looking down at the Shadowhunter boy. “Look, whoever they are, they’re not _here._ “ he said. “So you should just-” 

The boy pushed pass him and fell into his apartment. From the way he was tripping over his own two feet, Magnus was surprised he made it up the stairs without tragedy. 

The boy spotted Chairman Meow reclining on the sofa, and he threw himself on his knees in front of him. He seized the cat in his hands and held him up to his face. 

“Church!” He yelled into Chairmans ear, and the cat hissed and scratched his cheek. He didn’t seem to notice. “Where’s everyone gone, Church? Did the warlock hide them?” 

Magnus groaned and slammed the door shut, walking across the room to save his cat. “I didn’t _hide_ anyone. _This isn’t the institute,_ it’s my apartment.” 

His tone was harsh, but looking at the boy, he couldn’t be angry. The shadowhunters hair hung in long uncut tangles over his pale face and neck, blacker than the runes that decorated his skin and curled out from the edge of his collar. 

He was flushed darkly high on his cheekbones, the red the almost the same hue as the dots of blood appearing along the cut Chairman had made.  
His thick eyebrows seemed to be perpetually drawn in confusion and his lips were halfway into a hesitant, unsure smile. 

He looked like the kind of boy that could control your whole world without ever knowing it. Magnus knew that pretty boys have always been his undoing. He couldn’t send him home, not like this. Now he wasn’t sure if he even wanted to. 

“What’s your name?” He asked gently, setting the Chairman down and taking the boy by the wrists and sitting him down on the couch. 

Magnus sank down next to him, folding his long legs beneath him. “Alec,” the boy said, staring down at his blue-veined palms. 

“Well, Alec,” Magnus smiled, wondering if it was short for Alexander. He loved when people had two names, one being more special and intimate than the other. “You can stay here tonight, if you’d like. Do you want some coffee?” 

Alec nodded, his hair falling over his face to cover his expression. “I’ll go get some.” Magnus said, getting up and heading towards the kitchen. He could easily magic coffee right into Alec’s unsteady hands, but he supposed the boy could use a moment to himself, and some normalcy. 

Magnus stood in the middle of his kitchen, bouncing on the balls of his feet and humming tunelessly to himself. After a minute, he magicked a bottle of aspirin, a gas station coffee, and an olive green mug to himself. He poured the coffee into the mug and tossed the paper cup into the sink, then grabbed it and the aspirin and headed his way back to Alec. 

“I’m guessing you have a headache and feel terrible, or you’re about to, so…” He trailed off, staring down at Alec. He lay asleep, long legs awkwardly folded over the arm of the couch, one arm splayed across his stomach, the other tucked under his neck. 

His eyes fluttered under his eyelids, the skin under them tinted blue like bruises. His mouth hung open, lips tugging up at the corners in the suggestion of a smile. The Chairman, having made his peace, lay curled up on Alec’s chest and purred contentedly. 

Magnus sighed and shook his head, a dumb smile growing on his face. He set the coffee and aspirin down on the foot table and had his comforter float over to him from his bedroom. 

He covered Alec with it, gently tucking it in around his lean shoulders. He let his fingers linger for a moment next to the boys face, just brushing his cheek. 

Magnus straightened up, looking down at Alec for just another second before padding off to his room. He collapsed onto bed, his eyes flicking over to the clock. _3:17 am._ He smiled and closed his eyes, though sleep wouldn’t take him. 


End file.
